


State of Grace

by Anonymous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 16:38:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4571844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s 1945 and Japan's last stand is fought in the sky by a group of boys trained to fly only for glory and victory. Kamikaze pilot Sugawara Koushi is not an ideal soldier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Antebellum Innocence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheelia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheelia/gifts).



> Celia who is too worthy for my lazy, anxious, overly-self-conscious writing. Thank you for the years in between the ~unspeakable youth~ and now. I dedicate my (legitimate, properly conceived) firstborn into your hands because you were the midwife who guilt-tripped me and told me to keep pushing.
> 
> <3

_February 1945, 3rd Naval Air Station, Miyagi Prefecture, Japan_

 

“We’re adding four recruits to your squadron,” Commander Ukai tells Sawamura after dinner. Their eyes meet long enough for him to react and nod before Ukai was already striding past him, boots clicking against the floor.

 _But we only lost three._ Sawamura thinks, and then, _already?_ Sugawara’s gaze flashes a reprimand and Sawamura catches the thought, breathing it in. Both of them are equipped with tired eyes and stones upon their shoulders. The cold they feel is not just from the winter night.

“We only have three planes,” Sawamura starts, sitting down.

“Don’t,” Sugawara interjects.

“Formation, futons, relearning signals -,”

“Not for you to worry,” Sugawara replies, firm. 

They’re only 3 months in and Sawamura could could feel the weight of his heart sinking through his chest, pulling his ribs, stretching his tendons and opening a void that’s swallowing his insides whole. 

There’s the sound of clothes rustling opposite him and he looks up, startled. Sugawara is collecting his tray to return it to the kitchens, a small smile on his face, “We’ll be fine.”

_But we won’t make it._

The silence is mutual.

 

— 

 

There was four, just as Ukai said, shifting in their new boots outside of the barracks. The sun is high and their bags look lightly packed.

“Please take care of us!” They bow together.

Sawamura considers them for a moment before turning, “Follow me.”

Sugawara strolls around him and pauses as they grab their belongings. He greets them with a warm smile, extracting moral sunshine from his mental reserves, “I’m the Vice-Captain, Sugawara. The back you see there belongs to Captain Sawamura.” Sawamura rolls a shoulder in response. “Where are you guys from?

The one with bright orange hair trips into another bow while scurrying along, “Hinata Shoyou, straight from Preparatory Flight Training.” Sugawara has to hide his laugh with a stiff smile. Hinata’s cheeks are still chubby and his height lets a question of age linger. Sugawara’s curious but he won’t ask. He knows the mortality rate for the Yokaren is high and some students prefer to leave reasons unsaid, hidden in the nooks of their chest.

“Kageyama Tobio. I’m from the Imperial Navy Academy.” _Ah, one of those._

“Tsukishima Kei, Reserve Class.”

“Y-Yamaguchi Tadashi, from the Reserve Class Sugawara-san.” _Classmates?_

“Sugawara-san,” Hinata skips beside him, all youthful, unbridled energy, “I heard there was a nickname for this base, um… Cr-, Ka…”

“Karasuno.” Sawamura answers briskly, Hinata jumps at his voice. “The Crow.”

Yamaguchi shifts on his foot, “Why, is it called that?”

Tsukishima eyes the sky and sighs, breath condensing into the winter air. Sugawara pouts, _he knows._

There’s a shout in the distance, immediately followed by the fluttering of many wings, beating together in a fibrillating rhythm that overwhelms the singing of the waves in the distance. Sawamura looks to the left and Sugawara watches their heads turn and follow.

A flock of crows erupt from the field, a black, shape-shifting shadow consuming the sky as it flies towards them. Three of the recruits jump in varying degrees of surprise.

There’s a cacophony of noise, from the flight of the birds to the yelling in the distance as well the roar of engines as a plane starts to descend. The sheer number of crows cast a momentary shadow over their little group and Sawamura turns around, shoulders pulled back to show off the full width of his chest. 

“Welcome to Karasuno boys,” he grins.

Sugawara mentally applauds the look of fear in their eyes.

 

— 

 

“The fuck you’re old enough,” Tanaka squats down to glare at Hinata, “Which grandpa signed your enlistment form.”

“Hey!” Hinata retaliates, jumping backwards to look down at the intruder, “I’m old! Enough. Old enough to choose to be here!”

“No fighting this early please,” Sugawara smiles half-heartedly. He lets the world ‘choose’ slip past his mind. Half of him wants the storm to simmer a little longer, the entire base has been down since the accident. 

“How old are you again?” Nishinoya looks at him up and down.

“How old are _you_.” Hinata shoots back, looking down and well, down. 

Nishinoya bristles like a spurned cat before jumping forwards, grabbing Hinata by his collar, “Older than _you_.” Hinata bares his teeth and throws back his arms, hitting Kageyama in the stomach.

Something is interpreted as a declaration of war. Pillows are thrown and ancestors’ spirits are summoned and insulted as a melee unfolds.

“Feet off the futons!” Sawamura hollers.

Sugawara laughs, the first time in a week, “ _That’s_ what you’re worried about?” Sawamura’s affronted look lasts until a pair of underwear hit his face.

The door slams open, “WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE,” Ukai roars.

The room goes silent. Sugawara stealthily slides the underwear off with a delicate finger.

 

— 

 

Sawamura opens his eyes just as the rays of dawn began to creep in through the cracks in the walls. He stretches and barely suppressed a yelp as his muscles pulsated and contracted and _burned_. The memory of dashing up the sand dunes comes back, making him groan. Cautiously, he sits up, mind pushing away the tendrils of sleepiness that threaten to pull him back down.

The futon next to him was empty, already folded and placed neatly above the pillow. Sawamura sighs and gets up to do the same.

He finds Sugawara outside washing his face and the other turns to offer him a bleary smile as his feet hits the gravel.

“You don’t have to get up this early. Only the captain has things to do.” He winces as he bends down to open the tap.

Sugawara smiles a little wider, “I don’t have to, but I choose to.”

“More sleep is good for you.” The icy water bites into his skin.

Sugawara hums as he picks up his toothbrush, “Are you going to turn that into an order Captain Sawamura?”

“No,” Sawamura gets out his own and begins brushing.

Sugawara flashes another grin before turning away. They brush their teeth together amiably, revelling in the quietness before dawn. 

Sunlight is somehow different when you were a soldier compared to when you were a child. It had a new voice that counted your days for you and it’s scorching presence blew on your back as you carve the evidence of your mortality on the earth. There are times when Sugawara wished for the Earth to pause in its celestial rotation, for an eternity to be unlocked within an instant, unravelled for him to exist within it, safe from the shifting, falling sands of time. For a guarantee that Sawamura’s presence would accompany him into the drawl of infinity, that there even was an infinity. 

The grandfather clock at home shivers into his mind. If he were any younger and more naive, he would’ve reached out and grabbed the thin copper weight inside, stopping its in its traitorous course and wish for the pendulum to turn back. But how could you unwind the hours? Every swing forces a chime, adding seconds upon seconds upon seconds on this fragile existence until, snap, it shatters.

The blue hour held semblance to the quiet eternity Sugawara wished for. It existed before the day, before the curtains unveiled the stage of the world and the actors began their printed paths. This was a backstage, a shadow in which whispers and mistakes went unnoticed.

He lets Sawamura prepare the tea for Ukai while he brings the breakfast from Kiyoko in the kitchens. She offers him a solid nod while stirring a pot that smells warmly of miso. 

The mess hall is deathly silent and Sugawara feels the gaze of the emptiness on his back as he exits.

They meet outside of Ukai’s door and make small talk about the day as they stroll back to the sleeping quarters. When they slide open the door, the sight that greets them nudges a smile.

Hinata’s is lying in the middle on the floor after losing a critical round of scissors paper rock last night for the three spare futons. Curled up and snoring, he is snuggled amongst a multitude of donated blankets and Sugawara’s heart thumps against his chest at the peacefulness on his face. With his eyes closed and his usual joviality placated by sleep, Hinata looks even younger. _Life even shorter._

“I don’t blame you, you know.” Sawamura murmurs by his side.

He blows a tuft of hair from his face, “I’m wasn’t thinking about that.”

“You would’ve if I didn’t stop you,” Sawamura smiles.

Sugawara sighs. Tsukishima’s face actually looks friendly when he’s asleep, relaxed and without his glasses. He contemplates putting a finger in Kageyama’s open mouth while scanning the facial features of his squadron. “The recruits are adapting quickly,” he whispers.

“Yes. Although I fear Kageyama’s style could be dangerous for Hinata.” Sawamura raises an eyebrow when Sugawara hides a chuckle beneath his hand. “What?”

“I think something could come out of it. They both have a lot of potential to be strong fliers.”

Sawamura sighs. “Pity that’s not what they’re here for.”

Sugawara’s mouth thins, a familiar beacon of warning for inward storms Sawamura never sees. 

There’s a moment of silence before Sugawara asks, “Are your calves really sore from yesterday?”

Sawamura startles, then pauses before answering slowly. “Yes, quite.”

“Do you want a massage?” Sugawara offers, “My grandfather says that my fingers are magic.” He stretches and wiggles the full nine and a half. Sawamura’s eyes drift down to the movement and winces. Something shifts in the air.

“Koushi.” He runs his fingers through his hair, “Do not, think too much about it.”

Sugawara stiffens, “Are you telling me to forget? What are you going to tell them? To fly in order to die?”

“Have you forgotten our mission?”

“Who could forget a death sentence?”

“Then live like-”

“Not like a dead man Sawamura. I won’t let them live like dead men.” Sugawara’s chin is high, defiant as the dawn weaves into the stillness.

Sawamura’s gaze is level, piercing like cold glass. “They will live. But not on false hope.”

There’s a rustle and both their eyes dart to Tanaka, who is beginning to stir. Sawamura glances at the clock on the wall. _Damn, 2 minutes late._ Sugawara notices.

“Wake your squadron Captain.” His tone is tethering on a fractured blend of camaraderie, back already turned, “Will we hear a song today?”

“Never,” Sawamura takes a deep breath while grabbing the pan and ladle from under his bed, “Unless you’re offering a duet.” The jest is empty.

Sugawara doesn’t reply as he walks out the door. The sun is rising and its stubborn empire is expanding, chasing out the yesterday’s shadows and ushering in tomorrow’s fire. The sea is roaring and the scent of miso drifts by, filling the spaces where the cold once held its reign. Warmth creeps between the gaps in his fingers and he closes his palms. His left hand feels hollow.

The banging starts, promptly accompanied by the usual procession of shouts and complaints. Amongst the clamour was a thud, followed by laughter. _Well,_ he thinks, _something's new._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ The rank of Captain > Commander in the real life navy, I just wanted to retain the feel from the anime. *sweats nervously*.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I shall edit the remaning mass dilligently. :'D


	2. Brave New World

Sometimes under the blanket of twilight, Sugawara recalls the sensation of rope chafing his wrists and the bitter burn of his own rifle underneath his chin. His eyes would be fixed on the ammunition emptied out by his side, counting the bullets as his toes scrambled to find the trigger.

_6, 8, 10…_

He would steady the gun with a thigh as his bare foot shifts into position, no longer flinching against the harsh metal. 

_20 out of 20._

He always closed his eyes when he pressed the trigger.

It had taken him twelve minutes to learn how to free his foot and pick up the gun, one minute after the first strike came from the overseeing officer.

The second strike came when he dropped his rifle. Deliberately because Sawamura could not take off his boot fast enough to prevent a punch to the face. He fell like a ceramic vase, shatteringly loud against the floor, head inches away from where Sugawara sat, hands tied behind his back. Sugawara looked down at the Sawamura's face, saw the bruise blossoming like a thunderstorm on his features. and loosened his grip on his own rifle, purposely loud and purposely clumsy so that it landed at a distance further than he could reach.

The third strike broke his nose.

 

_Victory or Death. There is no alternative._

_Surrender is the ultimate disgrace._

_Never live to experience the shame as a prisoner._

_Dying for the Emperor is the pathway to godhood._

_To die in battle is to ascertain a place with history’s heroes._

_The Emperor commands you to die._

_Die._

 

 

— 

 

 

“FLY,” Hinata waves his arms, eyes impossibly bright, “I want to FLY.”

“Today.” Kageyama states, fixated on Sawamura as he refuels his own plane. Sugawara glances at the scene, one ear open. They had tried to train up the recruits as fast as possible but between missing planes and unsynchronised instincts, every afternoon ends a hair’s breadth short of catastrophe. Even without some of them getting in planes.

Sawamura wipes his forehead on his sleeve, “What’s the difference between an escort carrier and a tanker?” 

Kageyama shifts his weight, “One’s taller.”

Sawamura raises an eyebrow, “Which one?”

“Tanker!” Hinata beams, raising his hand.

Sawamura frowns, Kageyama hits Hinata with a backhand, “Baka! It’s the escort carrier!”

“Escort carriers are flat!”

“Baka! Baka! You’re obviously wrong,” Kageyama seethes, waving at Sawamura’s neutrally-apprehensively-teacher-ly expression, “They have masts too.”

“Tiny masts.” Hinata shoots back, hands on his hips.

“You’re both wrong,” a voice drawls, unamused. The bickering two turns around to see Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, dressed in the official piloting uniform, fresh khaki complete with harnesses and goggles. There’s a cocky swagger in their stroll that confronts Hinata and Kageyama as subtly as a dancing elephant. Fists are clenched and silent challenges are communicated. Tsukishima looks down as regally as possible without forming a double chin. Hinata’s heels slowly lift off the ground.

“When you’re in the air,” Yamaguchi raises a finger sagely, “It’s impossible to distinguish individual ships of the same size. So you must evaluate based on the position and the arrangement of the fleet.”

“Escorts are normally on the vanguard whereas tankers are typically surrounded by the smaller destroyers,” Tsukishima adds, the paragon of good-will.

“And,” Sawamura interrupts, “That’s why they’re flying and you’re not.”

Hinata spins around, “But there’s still one more plane!” Kageyama nods, eyes stern, as if attempting to reflect Sawamura’s authority back at him.

Sawamura’s fingers twitch and Sugawara knows he wants to cross his arms on instinct. His own heart hurts, beating beneath his ribs. _Why are they so impatient to-_

“If you’re not ready to fly then you can’t fly.” 

“I’m not so sure sure about -” Kagayama squints at Hinata, “-him, but I graduated from the Imperial Navy Academy. I am ready to fly.”

“Well.” Hinata stands a little straighter, “Preparatory Flight Training is intense. We learn what you did in half the time.”

“Well.” Kageyama turns, “It means you’re half as good-”

“Or are you half as slow?” 

“Obviously not since yesterday I-”

Sawamura rolls his head towards Sugawara, eyes deadpan. _I can’t deal with these two._

Sugawara pushes back the burning guilt and gestures with a smile, _would you like me to…?_

 _Please._ Sawamura mouths. 

Still smiling, Sugawara gets up and brushes off the dust on his knees. “Tanaka!” He shouts, sing-song.

“Yo!” A bald head pops out from within a plane.

“Can you ask Kiyoko if there’s anything she wants to buy?”

“Eh?” Tanaka bolts up, cursing when his knee hits metal, “We’re going shopping?”

Sugawara strolls over to Hinata and Kageyama, dropping a hand on each of their shoulders, “We’re going shopping~”

 

 

— 

 

 

The route to Karasuno Town is scenic and all but Sugawara’s busy calculating a million and one ways to address the paramount issue, subtly and with minimal collateral damage as well as chances of heresy. This is supposed to be Sawamura’s field of expertise, not his. Sugawara would rather smile and let it go, avoiding confrontation.

“Tanaka, could you run ahead to Shimada’s store? Tell him we’re coming,” Sugawara suggests.

Tanaka throws a quick salute before dashing forwards, leaving Sugawara with the two recruits.

“Hinata, Kageyama.” There’s a slight startle but their eyes are on him. Sugawara takes a breath as he keeps walking. “About this morning, you’re not banned from flying just because there’s only one plane or or that you don’t understand the minute strategic details. Captain Sawamura has reasons which I want you to understand.” Sugawara glances at their expressions, sullen, frowning, before continuing, "There’s the impression that you’re are not taking this seriously. Japan does not need soldiers that are playing around. _We_ don’t want a soldiers that are playing around. None of us want to lose our lives in a meaningless, training accident.” _Three of us did._

Kageyama opens his mouth, eyebrows knitted. 

Sugawara doesn't look at them when he asks, “Who are we flying for?”

“The Emperor,” came the rehearsed, practiced response, smooth like silk running over a waterfall. 

“What are we training for?”

“To-,” Hinata hesitates and throws a look at Kageyama, whose lips are now stubbornly sealed. “Fly bravely and, and accurately nullify the enemy’s ships.”

 _Well worded._ “To crash.” Sugawara clarifies firmly. “We fly in order to crash. Our mission is defined, singular, unchangeable.” His breath almost catches. “No matter how hard we train or how well we fly, our chances of surviving this war is nil. Our mission is to die. Do not forget this.” _I can't forgive this._

He doesn’t turn to see the look on their faces. His palm is sweating and he resists the instinct to wipe it on his pants. _Sawamura should be doing this._ Something nudges at his mind and he whispers, "So what are you going to die for.”

There is hesitance in the air as they walk and Sugawara’s mind is berating him, _hypocrite hypocrite, traitor._ He looks back at them and asks more gently, “Have you thought about your death?”

After a moment, both of them shake their heads. Sugawara’s heart dissolves a little more. Their pace continues without alteration but there's a new weight in their step, a slight drag like the presence of invisible chains.

“Sugawara-san, I haven’t forgotten that we are going to die but, death,” Hinata pauses, “It’s not something… you can - well I can think about it, but I don’t, think about it? I can’t? As in, I can imagine, see, how I would pass but… It seems too distant for my mind to grasp clearly.”

Kageyama nods his head, “Same. I can’t, I - I know what I’m dying for but, what, dying. Dying _for_? It’s-.” He breaks off.

“There’s a lot to die for,” Sugawara’s eyes brush the shoreline, the still sand and the movement of the pecking crows, “To protect your family, your country, for the glory of Japan.” _Sorry Sawamura, but I’ll-_

A crow caws, beating at the air with its black wings as it takes flight. The words drift between them and fall, empty.

“Were you conscripted or did you enlist?” 

“I… enlisted to be a pilot but I didn’t make the cut for aviation.” Kageyama reveals.

“Kamikaze was the only option for piloting,” Hinata states.

Sugawara understands a little more. “Both of you want to fly.”

“Yes!”

“Even if it’s for a one-flight suicide mission?”

The conversation stalls.

Kageyama looks to the side, “I wouldn’t say… I was flying _for_ … the end mission. It’s just, there. And now, I am flying.”

Hinata nods, “Sugawara-san, even if at the end is death…. all I can I think about now is flying. One flight will end in death, but the ones, the dozens before it will not.”

Sugawara hums, “So then, who are you flying for?” 

“Myself,” came the soft, synchronised reply. 

Sugawara’s smile is like daybreak, “Good answer.”

Hinata and Kageyama looks on in bewilderment. Sugawara grins at them for a moment before turning back to the path. “You’re put in a situation with very little choice about the outcome of your life by people whom you will never meet. When you’re in the plane, it’s just yourself and the sky. It’s exhilarating, it’s cathartic, it’s lonely.” He toes a loose pebble before kicking it forwards, “It’s noble to die for grand ideals like country and peace, but the soul is a selfish thing. It understands only itself and to expect greater is to lose it. Once you’re able to recognise your own desire, then you understand your purpose. Once you understand your purpose, then you can fly bravely without fear of death. You both understand and for that, I am glad.”

Hinata beams, “So we can fly?”

Sugawara laughs, “Not so fast.” Hinata’s face falls. “The commander still has to approve and the final plane is still being fixed but….” Sugawara tries to look subtly thoughtful, “We have two Mitsubishi Ki-46s. They’re only used for surveillance but….”

Hinata and Kageyama’s eyes sparkle in the sunlight.

“... I can take you flying if you wake up early tomorrow.” He finishes.

Hinata whoops and jumps into the air. Kageyama freezes in his step.

“Only if you promise not to tell Sawamura~” He winks.

“Promise!” Hinata yells, bowing.

 

 

— 

 

 

The rest of the journey is lighthearted and they meet up with Tanaka at the store. There’s bags of rice and some other supplies are already boxed so they help the younger Shimada move the boxes to a small trailer attached to a bike. A local grandma coos at their muscles. A few puppies play around their feet, wet noses nudging at their shoes.

“You still owe me a match,” An elderly man smiles at Sugawara, watching them with eyes crinkled closed in a smile, “Don’t let your Shogi skills deteriorate.”

Sugawara laughs, “Maybe next time Shimada-sama.”

The older Shimada turns to the new recruits and taps his walking stick against the ground, “Hang you there you hear! You’re the ones that will end the war for us.”

“Yes sir!” 

They take turns wheeling the entire apparatus into the main part of the town where the houses were denser and occasionally painted with splashes of red. The Japanese flag could be seen flying proud from a few verandas. A toddler waves from its mother arms, curious at their attire. Hinata waves back.

The next block has a high wall with chattering emanating from behind it. Tanaka grins and jumps, hands gripping the edge to pull himself up.

Sugawara sighs as Hinata tilts his head. “It’s the local girls school,” he explains. Kageyama nods like he understands the secrets of the universe. Hinata’s mouth is open in wonder.

“Sugawara-san!” A sunny voice interrupts their conversation. Hinata chokes when he sees the school uniform and the big, bright eyes.

“Hitoka-chan!” Tanaka cheers and jumps back down to greet her. 

She squeaks and freezes halfway through a bow, staring earnestly at the ground.

“You’re scaring her,” Sugawara adds helpfully. “Hitoka-chan, it’s nice to see you.” He also bows.

Hitoka fidgets before glancing around at the faces in their group, trying to avoid eye-contact with any of the pilots, “Um… Kiyoko-san is not with you?’

Sugawara shakes his head, “She’s back at base. She does send her greetings and thanks for the recipes you send her. She also compliments your handwriting.”

“Ah!” Hitoka blushes and dips into another bow, “It’s not that great! I just copy my mother’s style.”

“Kiyoko likes it,” Sugawara asserts, watching her descend into a stutter. Hinata looks on in wonder. “By the way, this is Hinata and Kageyama, two of our new recruits.” Kageyama stares down. Hinata blinks. 

Hitoka blinks. Then dives into the quickest bow Sugawara has ever witnessed, “Nice! To meet you! I’m Hitoka Yachi! My family owns the postal office here. Please take care of me!”

“Nice! To me- I mean. The same to you! Hello!” 

Sugawara takes his words back, Hinata’s bow was quicker. If Japan’s ships were half as fast, the war would’ve ended in 1939. As he’s feeling particularly gracious today, he interrupts the pair before they combust with embarrassment. “We’re here to collect the mail Hitoka-chan.”

"Oh yes, there's been a few recently. The box is quite heavy now.”

“Ah?” Tanaka leans over, “Any gifts? It was from a Saeko wasn’t it? Tanaka Saeko, written with the kanji for ‘child’.” He traces large strokes in the air with a finger.

Hitoka leans back, “Um, I don’t know! I can’t remember names, but there was one large package? It seems well wrapped?”

“Ooh, did you shake it? What did it sound like?”

“Boxy? Like there was something solid inside?” Hitoka freezes, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! It could be a bomb or a poisoned letter writing set or a spring trap with needles and you would all d--.”

“There, there,” Sugawara laughs, “I’m sure it’s just Sawamura’s mother sending us food again. Don’t be impatient Tanaka, we’ll see when we get there.”

 

 

— 

 

 

Sugawara is an oracle and it turns out to be sweet, squishy rice cakes wrapped in bamboo leaves inside a woven bamboo box. Sawamura’s eyes first glitter like the most possessive demon in bedtime folklore before they dissipate into a smile as he offers one (not two) to the drooling Nishinoya (who takes two). Sugawara snatches one before it falls into Nishinoya’s mouth and throws it to Asahi, who lurches forward, grappling at the air in a panic. When he does catch it, the thankfulness is painted all over his face. Nishinoya pouts.

“These. Are. So. Goooood,” Hinata sighs between chews. “Write back with: Thank you!! From Hinata Shouyou! Please make more Okaa-san!”

Sawamura replaces the lid and slides it out of Nishonoya’s reach, “My mum didn’t make this.” 

Oracles aren’t always accurate.

“Oh,” Asahi stretches, “Was it Michimiya-san?”

“Who?” Hinata asks.

Tanaka leans over with a devilish smile, “Captain’s fiance.” Nishinoya coos and makes spirit fingers. 

“Guys, guys,” Sawamura waves off the teasing, “She's not my fiancé .” Tanaka starts cooing as well, harmonising with Nishinoya.

“Yet~” Nishinoya smirks.

"I want a fiancé!" Hinata declares. 

Tsukishima snorts, "You think it’s simple?”

“I’ll just ask her to marry me!”

“Who would want to marry your scrawny ass?”

Some stars align in Sugawara’s mind and a temple bell dings. He laughs. Sawamura raises an eyebrow and leans over, asking behind his hand, “Does he have someone in mind?”

“We ran into Hitoka-chan this afternoon.”

Sawamura’s mouth opens, then closes, then smiles. “Ah.”

“Mhm.” Sugawara glances at the letter in Sawamura’s hand, “What did Michimiya write about?”

“Breakfast foods, sock knitting and - ” Sawamura winces. Sugarawara’s gaze hardens, “... and her mother would like to see me.”

“To?”

“Talk… about the engagement.”

Sugawara frowns, “Sawamura….”

He is looking straight ahead, “I’ll tell her this time.”

“This time.”

“Next time.”

 

 

— 

 

 

_Daichi,_

_Hello from home! Father and mother are well, they send their greetings. I hope the journey haven’t bruised the mochi, I made them last night with you and your team in mind (is Sugawara well? Asahi healthy?)._

_We’ve started to ration which means less rice but we’ve been trading noodle stamps for extra from the Nakashimas next door. So I still can eat rice with natto for breakfast! Have you been eating well?_

_The local women’s association has been knitting socks for soldiers recently, we managed to send out over a hundred pairs in the last month. Hana-chan can knit three socks in one sitting! I can’t, I start fidgeting and frown if I sit for too long. But I think about the possibility that a pair may be sent to you and then concentrate a little harder._

_How long will you be stationed at Karasuno? Mother and I would like to visit you. She insists on finalising the engagement details but I tell her not to bother you soldiers with trivial domestic affairs. They can wait until your return. (Though if you’re free, I would still like to drop by, if only to share a few words of encouragement)._

_I look earnestly towards the day the Japan is victorious and you will return to us. I believe you will survive any difficult situation, even if they station you to China or Malaya or the jungles of the Philippine._

_Fly bravely and come home,  
Yui_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ If you've enjoyed this even a little bit, then I'm satisfied with my attempt to write. Thank you for reading!
> 
> \+ Please comment your thoughts! Especially criticism! Anything you felt off with the characterisation! Dialogue! Style! The next two chapters are the difficult ones but I shall finish!


	3. Pursuit of Virtue

 

 

Sawamura blinks himself awake and rolls to his side. The futon next to his was empty, as to be expected, but something else makes him sit up and blink a few more times. 

_Six_ futons were empty. 

_Five_ blankets were scattered and unmade and left in hazardous bunches around the room. Only _one_ was neatly folded into a cotton box and it was the one next to him, where Sugawara would’ve, _should’ve_ been.

Nishinoya snores, all four limbs on Asahi’s futon whereas the man himself was curled into a corner. It was the only noise occupying the area.

Sawamura closes his eyes and starts to prepare his best captain voice.

 

— 

 

There are noises just drifting beyond where the hangar should be; mechanical sounds, gears, clanging of metal, voices more suited to late afternoon than early morning.

The commander’s room is quiet, as is the kitchen. Sawamura clearly hears the sound the gravel under his feet, and also, gradually, Sugawara’s voice.

“If you do this, --- that’s the fuel tank, see that pipe…”

“Mhm, mhm, mhm!” 

“What’s going on in here.” Sawamura growls. Oops, that was a bit lower than intended. Morning voice.

Hinata’s head shoots up, eyes wide. In his hand was an oily wrench. 

Sugawara looks over with a glowing smile, “Good Morning Captain! Fresh and early today?”

Sawamura clears his throat, “No earlier than you. What’s going on Vice-Captain Sugawara.” Hinata looks petrified. Maybe he shouldn’t have pulled rank.

Sugawara doesn’t bristle and retains a sacrilegious cheer as he replies, “Just letting Hinata help me fix this plane. Teaching him a few things here and there, nothing about _flying_ , nup nup.”

Sawamura narrows his eyes. Sugawara blinks innocuously. Something buzzes in the distance.

“Is it time for Ukai’s tea already?” He gets up, wiping his hands on a hankerchief. “We’ll better get going then.”

The buzzing gets louder and Sawamura stops breathing. He looks around the hanger, counting -

_2, 4, 6 -_

_7_

7 planes out of 9.

He hears Tanaka’s whooping and the familiar, characteristic, damning sound of a plane engine about to land.

Sawamura closes his eyes. He needs more than a captain voice. Maybe sainthood.

 

— 

 

“Well,” Sugawara starts, “their teamwork improved.”

“ _Flying planes_ , Sugawara,” Sawamura interrupts, frowns, then crosses his arms, “Without proper supervision, before the crack of dawn, without ground control guiding them-”

‘Yamaguchi’s on that. Nishinoya trained him.”

“Inexperienced, _temperamental_ , pilots-”

“Ki-46 seats 2, Tanaka was right behind Kageyama.”

“You had no intel on the aerial traffic-”

“I, um, had a peek at Ukai’s desk?”

Sawamura resists the urge to twitch a muscle, or scream. “Sleep deprivation. You’re increasing their chance of an accident.”

Sugawara lightly bounces on his feet, “I make them go to bed early, and they take naps during down time.”

He stares a little harder.

Sugawara’s all smiles.

“Does Ukai know?”

“Nup!”

Sawamura releases a sigh infused with the suffering of sustained cardiac arrest. 

Sugawara throws an open palm against his own chest, “Please don’t make me run laps, you know my lungs are dreadfully weak in winter.” He flutters his eyelashes for measure.

Sawamura’s not sure how easily he should let Sugawara go for this, but there’s a fresh maturity in Hinata’s eyes and a kindness in Kageyama’s frowns.

“Thank you Koushi.”

His smile breaks just as the dawn does, “You’re welcome, Daichi.”

 

 

— 

 

 

“Attack team,” Ukai’s voice commands, “Are you ready.”

“Alpha Two confirm for Charlie Two and Three.” Sugawara is comfortable in the seat of his own plane, familiar with its warmth and its contours. He hears briefly hears Yamaguchi in the background through the static communicating with the Evasion team and perhaps even Hinata’s breathing if he concentrates enough. The skies are clear and infinitely wide. The three planes before him begin to swerve in tandem.

“Evasion team confirm ready. Attack team begin the maneuver.” 

“Affirmative.” Sugawara eyes brush over the readings of the plane before he turns on the throttle and begins to chase.

Their planes weave through the clouds, gliding over the landscape. Sugawara keeps his eyes on the three planes in front and watches them as they tilt to the right. He can guess who is piloting which plane. Hinata is still a bit shaky, it shows in the hesitance of his turns, and his plane shivers in the gale as if waiting to break away from a leash and run free. Tanaka flies straight but his tell-tale spirit kicks during instances of acceleration, inching forward in the formation at every rotation.

Sawamura’s flight is constant, piercing through the clouds like a solid missile. The metallic barrel of his plane is sure even as the other two wavers and Sugawara lets it be his measure in this tumultuous sky, his axis and his origin against which he views the scene.

Hinata does eventually break off, nose sharply diving down towards the open plains.

“Sugawara-san.” Kageyama voice filters through. He doesn’t have to finish the sentence because Sugawara already knows that his hands are itching on the controls to follow.

“Approved. Out.” Sugawara moves his eyes off Daichi to watch Kageyama’s plane turn, smooth underbelly glinting in the sunlight.

Hinata soars through the air, maneuvering his Zero and rolling through the sky like a puppy on summer grass. Kageyama trails him, nose of his plane straight and sure through through their uncertain course.

“Alpha Two,” Tsukishima’s voice breaks into his thought. “Permission to engage. Over”

Looking back in front, he sees a plane already rising higher and swerving to the left. He knows it’s Tanaka because the angle of the tilt is outrageous and seventy-seven pages beyond textbook. “Approved. Out.” _Please be gentle Tanaka_ , he prays.

As the four slide out of his field of vision, he focuses on Sawamura’s plane as it slices into the sky. His eyes trace the angle of its wings against the horizon, watching the nuances of its tilts for the beginnings of a maneuver. A weave, a roll, a tailslide. He was prepared. 

Their planes continue forward, sweeping the breeze like the sails of a ship on easy seas. To his left was the coastline and Sugawara could pinpoint the line where blue meets blue and hear the flow of waves crashing against the sand of his memory. To his right was his country, the land of his birth and the people he would die defending. He grips the handles tighter and thinks of the multitude of floating existences, drifting and living parallel realities in the spectacle of an elegant, withering world.

Their formation was a dance, the horizon was their backdrop, the lakes their symphony. It was an illusory pleasure, one Sugawara knew was limited by the drops of fuel in his tank, the penciled letters of the Vice-Admiral and the wishes of a population on foreign shores. But the sight, the flight, was so breathtaking Sugawara could almost forget the war. It was so breathtaking that he dared to wish that he could fly forever, staying in the air with the company of his comrades in an infinite sky.

“Sugawara, Sugawara-san!” Nishinoya’s shout makes him blink, filtering through the radio. He hadn’t expected to hear from Nishinoya and Asahi, who were on aerial surveillance duty during this exercise. 

“Nishinoya, report. Over.” Sugawara’s palms are sweating in his gloves but he sharpens his eyes on the horizon. The absence of the usual chirpiness in his voice is obvious, even through the radio and in his chest, he feels the imperfect joys begin to expire.

“We’re declaring a state of emergency. You two are headed straight for American planes, you have to retreat. Over”

 _What?_ Shifting in his seatbelts, Sugawara forces his breath to slow as his heart begins to race, “Direction, coordinates. Number. Over”

“There’s three. Approximately 60 km. Bearing zero zero eight true. Ground speed 300. Over”

Sugawara’s eyes flick to his speedometer. _6 minutes until engagement._ “Roger. Nishinoya, have you contacted the Captain? Over.”

“Asahi’s trying to, but his frequency has interference. Yamaguchi has no signal. We’re not close enough for a clear reception. Over.”

He almost bites his tongue, mind already clicking, shifting, drawing calculations and simulations. Numbers run and possible moves play themselves in his head like a game of classic chess with his grandfather. Except unlike games with his grandfather, there are two opponents right now he needs to play into his plan. One he knows very well and one that will kill him.

“Nishinoya, retreat.” He commands finally, “Notify the others. I’m switching frequencies from now on. Over.”

“Sugawara?” the question is clear in Nishinoya’s tone.

“I’m going to get closer and try for a clear signal. Ou-”

“Sugawara! Shit, shit, shit. I’ll go. I’m faster, I’ll catch up somehow-.”

“Nishinoya, retreat! This is a command from your senior officer.” He lifts his chin, “Go notify the other pilots as well as Ground Control. We don’t know if they’re just scouts or fighters or even bombers. Be prepared to land given further information. Are you clear.”

There’s a short pause before Nishinoya replies, “Affirmative. Over.”

Sugawara breathes out and hears the thin echo shudder in his ear piece. “Alpha Two, out.” He reaches to the radio and switches frequencies and damn, Asahi was right, there was only static in his ears now.

“Alpha One do you copy.”

The radio cackles mockingly. Sugawara leans back. Sawamura’s plane is on his horizon, anticipating his move, oblivious to the danger.

“Negative Contact. Alpha Two out.”

Lowering the volume, he cuts the throttle, decelerates, and drops altitude. 

_4 minutes until engagement._

 

 

— 

 

 

The flight is considerably cathartic, Sawamura muses, cruising just high enough to brush the clouds. He spies the flecks of sea peeking from areas of thinner cloud cover and wonders how Hinata and Kageyama are going. He hopes that they haven’t done anything reckless, even though they’ve been learning in close proximity to Nishinoya and Tanaka. And Sugawara who seems angelic but...

Glancing behind him, he does a double take. The plane behind him was gone, out of his vision. He looks around him and sees only the wide blue sky and the tinted clouds. He thinks about his path so far, before deciding to pull back the engines and glide lower.

Static pulses from his radio and he is tempted to turn off the distraction. 

Wisps of cloud shoot past him as his visibility decreases even further. 

The radio buzzes loudly and he frowns. The clouds are thicker to his left so he starts steering to the right in a practiced, controlled turn.

The clouds dissipate rapidly below him. The static from the radio clears for a moment and -

“Pan, pan, pan. Alpha One do you copy.” It’s Sugawara’s voice, his usual sweet tone textured with jagged frequencies and urgency. The three words turn his blood to ice. 

“Alpha two, wha-”

“Pan, pan, pan. Alpha One do you copy!” Sugawara repeats. 

Sawamura swears, and turns on his microphone. Static claws into Sugawara’s repetition mercilessly.

“-an. Alpha o--, do you- ---y”

“Alpha One. I copy. Alpha Two, come in.” Sawamura states, keeping his voice even.

“Oh thank god-, Sawamura listen.” Sugawara’s sigh is audible through his earpiece. “State of emergency. Abort exercise. American planes. Over.”

 _Fuck._ “Time. Bearing. Over.” Sawamura pulls a sharp turn to the right, gritting his teeth as the air barrels into the underside of his plane. 

“---. --- or two minutes until engagement. Ranger Two says they’re coming 300 to coast from south east. Over.” 

The clouds fall behind him as he flies out, blinking rapidly in the sunlight. There’s silence on the other end and Samura fears the signal was lost again. He checks his speed and the navigator and looks outside, entire body freezing.

There are three dark specks rising from the clouds in the distance. 

Sawamura gulps, “Alpha Two I have a visual.” 

Instinct commands him to drop altitude and run. Their Zeros weren’t made for aircraft-to-aircraft warfare. The engineers completely skipped out on installing machine guns because, what was point of teaching artillery to one-flight pilots? They were sitting ducks against a master hunter. A shadow flits out of his peripheral, dangerously close and shit, Sawamura rapidly pulls up and flips his plane, horizon tilting and coastline rising to form a green, grassy sky. The other plane is doing the same in the other direction, a perfect reflection against an invisible mirror and Sawamura looks up just as the other pilot does. It’s Sugawara, eyes visibly wide beneath his goggles. _So that’s where he was flying. Clever._ He appreciates the strategy momentarily before a stream of bullets fly between them, whistling sharp, high tunes with the wind.

Sawamura throws his head back. They are directly in their line of fire and shit shit shit, a lot closer than before. He jerks his plane to a new angle, _minimise surface area_ , gripping at the wheel so tightly he feels individual threads in the wool press into his fingertips.

Suddenly, his wing is struck, jolting him to the side and there’s a thin, extended screech like metal biting metal, audible through his headphones. He whips his head towards Sugawara. _Did I-_

The edge of his right wing is barely chipped but there’s an ugly white scratch on the glass above Sugawara where they collided. The tips of their wings are close, so close that it causes his own eyes to widen.

Before he blinks, three bullets pierce the wing of Sugawara’s plane. His pupils don’t even move, unable to follow their supersonic path as it enters and exits his peripheral. Some debri scatter, the metal is burnt and the slightest sliver of grass winks through the gaping hole.

Sawamura blinks.

Sugawara’s plane drops, spinning wildly to one side like a weighted scale, shuddering, shaking.

“KOUSHI.” Sawamura can see Sugawara’s hand clutching clutching the controls, his desperate attempts to steer visible through the cracked glass. Bullets speed into his vision, a horizontal, metallic rain.

“I’m okay, I’m okay!” Sugawara yells, veering his plane back into stability, “Wing, not engine.”

“Can you fly?”

“Affirmative.” 

Sawamura observes the approaching planes and thinks, thinks, thinks. They can’t fight so the only option left is -

_Flight._

He chokes at the irony.

“Koushi, listen.” He speaks into the microphone, voice a controlled, quivering calm, “We need to go up. Our planes of superior speed and climb, we can outfly them..”

There’s a pause. “Roger.”

“It has to be steep climb, faster than they can adjust the angle of artillery. Our backs will be open so we have to spi-”

“Daichi, Daichi,” Sugawara laughs in his ear. “That sounds familiar.” 

Sawamura pauses. Memories drop into his mind, nudging towards a distant familiarity. “Yes.”

“We’ve been training for this,” Sugawara chuckles.

Sawamura thinks Sugawara’s sense of humour has always been inappropriately timed. “Yes, just a different direction. We can do this.”

“Of course Captain.”

Sawamura rolls his shoulders. “Alpha two are you ready.”

“Affirmative.”

“On my count.”

 

 

— 

 

 

_  
“Ennoshita didn’t know.”_

_“Mm?” Sawamura opens his eyes. His bones ache so he just turns his head to face Sugawara whose light hair is barely perceptible in the darkness. “Didn’t know?”_

_“What he was dying for.”_

_Sawamura does not reply._

_“Narita said he had no choice, I never asked Kinoshita.” Sugawara’s voice grows softer. “You had a choice Daichi.”_

_“I don’t regret it.”_

_“Then why haven’t you told Yui?”_

_“... I’m not sure if she will understand.”_

_Sugawara turns over, away from Sawamura, “I don’t understand it either.”_

_“I don’t understand you.”_

_Sugawara curls into himself. A dozen inhalations pass before he murmurs again._

_“I became a pilot because I didn’t want to die on land.”_

_Sawamura could only offer silence as a response._

_“I told them it was for the Emperor,” Sugawara continues, “I thought it was for my family. But when I saw my classmates being shipped to the Phillipines, I knew it was for myself.”_

_There’s a smile audible in sigh amidst the quietude of winter._

_“But after flying I thought,” Sugawara chuckles, “How unbearable would it be to die in the sky.”_

_Sawamura stretches out his hand, his fingertip barely brushing the open skin on Sugawara’s neck, “We have to.”_

_“I don’t want to.”_

_Sawamura almost hears the pout in his voice and prods his neck with a fingernail. “Then you better only do it once.”_

 

 

— 

 

 

One.

Two.

_Three._

Together, they cut the throttle, pull back the controls, spin the wheel. Their planes rise at the same pace, shoulder the shoulder, wing to wing. The angle is perfect, the motions correct.

The direction is wrong.

Sawamura is pushed into his seat, accelerating, accelerating, cheeks pressing his teeth and brain pressing into his skull. The sky is roaring past him, or is he roaring past the sky? He wants to close his eyes, forget about the loaded guns pointed at him and the expectation of being pierced.

The bullets stop.

Sawamura throws his head back and sees the three planes change direction.

_They know we’re not fighters, we’re good, we’re good._

He could recognise the colours and the shape of their barrels despite his height. Two are small and lithe, just like theirs, except equipped with artillery along the span of the wings. They fly swift and sure, as if guarding the one between. The other one is larger, round and proceeded with laboured acceleration and delayed turns. Sawamura’s blood turn to ice..

“A bomber with two escorts.” Sugawara whispers, barely audible above the static howling in his ears.

Silence fills the inside of his plane barrel.

_We need to notify ground, Karasuno needs to evacuate, the other planes they --_

He can’t hear Sugawara’s static.

“Koushi?”

Static flares, Sugawara’s voice comes in, breathy. “Yes?” Silence returns.

Sawamura frowns, runs his eyes over the instruments. Nothing anomalous glares at him, the planes are fine, so what-

_Oh my God._

“Koushi, turn your volume back up.” Sawamura commands, microphone pressed tight between his fingers, “This is an order.”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Turn your volume up. Koushi please, I need to hear you breathe.”

There’s a final hitch of silence before static flares, clamoring into life and erupting into his earpiece. It’s loud but Sugawara’s gasps are louder, interspersed between, overriding, overwhelming the crackling of the radio. It’s thin, it’s short and it’s raking the air between them to push into his lungs at a violent pace. 

Sawamura panics, throws his eyes to the altimeter and stares at the numbers until it hits him. 

_Shit, shit. Too high, we’re too high._

“Daichi, I’m okay-”

Blackboard visuals stream into his head, diagrams, digits, disapproving voices, lungs being coughed to oblivion.

“Down! We’re okay to descend-”

“Captain Sawamura.”

Silence.

“I’m descending. Alpha Two is clear and stable,” Sugawara’s voice is raspy but stable.

Sawamura takes a deep breath, it rattles on the way out of his lungs, “Don’t do that to me ever again.”

“Yes sir.” Sugawara laughs, “Awaiting orders, over.”

Sawamura hears his breathing regular and sure and remembers his grinning face in the dusk after a day of training. He remembers the post office and the high school and Hitoka-chan and the Shimadas as well as the coastal road where he strolled so many times with Sugawara. He sees the three planes over the inland horizon, crawling closer and closer to the place they call home. 

“Alpha Two update Ground Control. One bomber two escorts. Flying 300 to coast from east. Target possibly Karasuno.” He pauses, “2 minutes since engagement. 15 minutes til arrival. Do you copy?”

Sugawara is curt, “Affirmative, over.”

“Reroute all planes in flight. We’re landing at Seijou.”

“Alpha Two copy Alpha One. Over”

Sawamura smiles, “See you on the ground Sugawara Koushi.”

“Roger that Captain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise i have a habit of finishing chapters when I'm sleep deprived.
> 
> I'm going to try for just one more chapter, no matter how gigantic it will be I refuse to break my word and go to two.
> 
> Almost there!


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